


Quiet musings by the river

by randomrosewrites



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Comfort, Demon Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Freeform, M/M, Multi, Reader-Insert, i forget how to tag things, reader doesnt have a specific gender, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23420020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomrosewrites/pseuds/randomrosewrites
Summary: “You inspire these feelings of delight in me too, my dear.”...Alastor and you have a quiet evening together and exchange feelings.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader, technically - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121





	Quiet musings by the river

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Swamps in new Orleans do have otters.  
> The world of Hazbin Hotel and its characters belong to Vivziepop.

If you go this way, that way, backward, forward, yonder, and then south, you’d reach a dense swamp. The unknown darkness of such a place would usually be enough to prevent any trespassers from entering. However, if some inebriated or stupid soul was foolish enough to break the entrance of the territory, they would soon be lost in the maze of trees and bush. Millions of hungry eyes would watch as the sinner slowly realizes their mistake, and struggle in vain as they try to escape. 

Yes, for those who don’t know what they are doing, the swamp can be a deadly place. 

Not for you, however. 

All credit there went to the man clad in red, who walked over roots and all the like without even breaking conversation. While his outfit remained in pristine condition, you still had the occasional scratch from a branch or loose leaf adorn your clothing. 

The swamp wasn’t unbearably hot, but hot enough for a thick humid cloud to encapture everything in the area. It brushed up against your skin and hung there no matter where you went. Water from the creek gurgled as it flowed south towards the bog of the swamp. Despite the natural murky color that usually resided within the water, the creek was clear and refracted the light that streamed through the canopy of trees. 

A native otter like-creature with a few abnormal spikes along its spine was frolicking about in the water, cooing. It swam between your legs, which were soaking in the cool current. You smiled as your companion spun for you. When boredom struck, and you ventured out into the thicket of the swamp, the animal (?) would always join you. They knew that the shorter, quieter person who visited with the taller, redder and louder being would give them belly rubs and treats in return for some company.

“Darling, dinner will be ready soon!” You heard his voice echo from the cabin. 

“I’ll be there in a second!” You responded, promptly shaking water from your feet, putting on your shoes and balling your socks into your pocket. You debated whether to walk barefoot or not but decided against it. You didn’t want to wash the dirt off of your feet later, and there were still sharp rocks that lined the path back to the cabin.

“Bye little guy, see you later,” you said, giving your friend one last rub. The otter gave a whine of disapproval, staring up at you with it’s big, glassy eyes.  
“Sorry, but I gotta eat too.” you apologized. 

The otter rolled on its belly, then slapped its tail against the water a few times before disappearing into the bushes on the other side of the stream. 

You started towards the cabin, humming a familiar tune. You never minded coming to the swamp with Alastor, at least not anymore. It was relatively quiet and gave a break from the constant chaos in the cities. Not that Alastor minded that, heavens no. 

You rounded the corner and the view of your (technically his-) home came into view. It was a small little thing, one bedroom, a dining room, kitchen, and living room, but it never felt too cramped. It was cozy. Stepping into the house you hung your coat up on the rack and exchanged your mud-stained boots for a cleaner pair of footwear. 

The house was mostly red, or at least appeared red under the light that seeped in through the windows. It was furnished and decorated with what you assumed was the objects Alastor owned when he was alive. A bookshelf, a couch by the fireplace, a few photographs that were stained with time, and numerous taxidermal heads above the hearth. Other trinkets and possessions of yours were strewn about, combining with Alastors. It not only showed how much Alastor trusted you to see this private side of him, but also showed how his own self was influenced by you too. The thought made your heart clench and your face to heat up. 

  
“Did you enjoy yourself, love?” speaking of the devil. Alastor had set up the table beautifully, decorated with a white tablecloth and illuminated with a few candles. 

“I did. Need some help?” He was carrying the last of the dishes over to the table, with his apron still tied around his lithe frame. It had originally said “DO NOT kiss the cook” but was amended to read “ONE PERSON kiss the cook”. The thing made you smile each time you saw it.

He set down the pot of steamed crawfish on the table. “It’s quite all right my dear, this is the last of it. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you do the work for me?” He pulled your chair back for you, expectantly. You thanked him as you sat down and he pushed the chair in gently. 

Alastor did most of the cooking for the two of you, knowing a variety of recipes and knowing his way around the kitchen. You watched sometimes over his shoulder and tried not to get in the way. As he cooked he would sometimes hold up a spoon for you to taste. It was always delicious, and _almost_ always perfect. 

Alastor removed his soiled apron and folded it before laying it on the back of his chair. Ever the gentleman, he poured your glass of wine first before his own. You two clinked your drinks before digging in. 

“Do you have any plans for this Saturday, my dear?” Alastor asked, after finishing his first bite.

“Mhm, not that I know of. I believe I’m free, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, our good friend Mimzy has invited us to a private showing in her club! I do believe Rosie shall be there as well if you’re interested.”

Your ears perked up. Mimzy and Miss Rosie were both demons you met thanks to Al, and both of them were very kind to you. Despite them being of the same nature towards you, the two were very different.

The overlord, who you called Miss Rosie for pleasantries, was like a mother figure to you. When you visited her emporium, her little servants would usher you into the back room where you both would drink tea and enjoy a nice conversation. Miss Rosie was a lady, and her interactions were nothing less of elegant and composed.

Mimzy, on the other hand, wasn’t an overlord. Nights on the town would usually be loud, accompanied by sweet jazz, food, and singing. On the odd occasion where a scuffle would occur, the flapper girl knew how to fight as well. Outings promised nothing but entertainment and excitement.

Still, the two of them respected you and cared for you in their own ways. 

“I’d love to go.” you finally said. 

“Wonderful!” Al grinned, beaming from ear to ear. “I’m sure Mimzy will be thrilled to hear.” 

  
The rest of the meal was filled with calming banter. The two of you took your time eating, it was only when the wax from the candles began to drip onto the table that you cleared your plates and washed them. 

A soft crackle pulled your attention from the last dish you were drying. Alastor had removed his coat and a soft tune was being played on the radio. He pulled his bowtie taught before extending his hand out to you.

“Care to indulge a sinner with a dance?”

There was something about Alastor that you had been instantly attracted to. From the first moment that he presented himself, you could only stare and appreciate everything that he was. The way he held himself, his mannerisms and his voice only fueled the desire inside you for him. 

He looked like heaven itself. 

Swallowing thickly, you place your hand in his own. The tune swept the two of you up in slow circles around the room. The song was something old, slow and tranquil. You laid your head on his breast, listening to the gentle thump of his heart (if he had one). Regardless, he had something that if not physically but emotionally allowed for him to care for you. You knew that. 

“Al,” you murmur, after some time.

  
“Hmm?” one hand had left your own to gently stroke the locks at the back of your head. Your movements switching to small swaying. 

“I…. I really appreciate you,” you whispered. “I just...I want you to know that, I…” Why did expressing your feelings have to be so hard? Words always illuded you in the worst of times.

“I uh…” Your palms felt sweaty. It wasn’t that Alastor didn’t know how infatuated you were with him, but voicing the fact always embarrassed you. Still, it was important to you that you did tell him how you felt.

“Take your time, darling.” He chuckled, amused at the way you squirmed in his grasp. His arm which rested on the curve of your back pulled you closer to his chest, the hand in your hair rubbing at the base of your nape.

If words were failing you, perhaps you could take a more physical approach. 

You lifted your head to look up at him, “Can you lean down?” You asked hesitantly. Even when standing he loomed over you. 

He complied wordlessly, releasing his tight grip on your back to be eye-level with you. You cupped his face in your hands, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. His eyes fluttered, smile softening at the edges. You licked your dry lips and looked at his own. Blood thrummed through your head, you wondered if he could hear it. 

Then, slowly, you pressed your lips to his. At the same time, his lips became pressed together to meet yours. It was a chaste kiss, and after a few seconds, you pulled back.

“I am helplessly in love with you.”

“I am helplessly in love with me as well.” A laugh track that rung in the background made you short and roll your eyes. “But your sentiment makes me happy beyond words, sweetheart.” 

You gave him one more peck on the nose. “You have more than just my sentiment.” You took his hand and guiding it under your shirt, you lead it to rest over your erratic heart. “You have _me_.” 

And truly that was the most terrifying and exhilarating thing. To know how much Alastor meant to you, how alive you felt just being at his side. To know that your soul was beating and thriving to the melody he played. 

Alastor stared blankly ahead, eyes lidded and static silent for a second. He grasped your hand and slid it underneath his dress shirt to rest against his own chest. 

“I have a confession to make,” he started. His chest was cool and firm, you felt him quake lightly under your fingertips. What stunned you was the pulse you felt under them. A very dull, albeit, but a certainly prominent heartbeat. 

“You inspire these feelings of delight in me too, my dear.” His voice, unclogged by static was low in your ears. 

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against Al’s, a smile impulsively grew across your own face. No more words were needed right now.

Deep underground, in the depths of hell and hidden miles deep in the abyss of the swamp, you were safe. You were where you belonged, not by destiny but by choice.

  
You were home.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any grammar mistakes lol.  
> This is my first time writing...anything in more than a year, maybe two.  
> It feels weird, I forget how paragraphs work and how words work.
> 
> This is a little practice that turned into a 4-page thing. I'm planning on a longer based fic and a few smaller fics in the future, but I wanted to practice writing for Alastor. Sorry if he's too ooc.
> 
> Tell me how I did, if you want. Any advice/ constructive criticism is welcome too.


End file.
